


Crash Into Me

by Caedmon



Series: Amelioration in Budapest [10]
Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Clint Feels, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, I apologize profusely, Natasha Feels, Resolved Romantic Tension, Resolved Sexual Tension, Smut, Smut independent of the plot, so if it sucks, writing smut really isn't my thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 06:46:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2141085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caedmon/pseuds/Caedmon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint and Natasha consummate their reunion. </p><p> </p><p>(here there be smut)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crash Into Me

**Author's Note:**

> I split this chapter into two parts so that the NSFW part could be skipped or filtered out if the reader so desired. This is non-vital to the story and can be skipped without missing anything at all. Seriously - it's just smut. 
> 
> I never write smut, so if this sucks, I apologize. 
> 
> I changed the title of this chapter to better reflect what was in it. Title taken from the Dave Matthews Band song of the same name.
> 
> I own nothing.
> 
> And now, to the sex!

“Please stay with me.”

Holy God, did Natasha know what she asking of him? Did _he_ know what she was asking of him?

Clint had hurt her so badly, and she had just awakened from a nightmare. A nightmare about him. Clint couldn’t possibly seduce her. He had to master his body. He simply had to control himself. 

He turned around to face her and smiled. “Of course, sweetheart. Scoot over a little.”

He slid into bed and laid down, lying on his side. He had expected Natasha to roll away from him but was surprised when she rolled her body flush against him, twining her legs with his, resting her hands on his chest and her head on his outstretched arm. Clint brought his other arm across her body and around her back, drawing her closer, trying to fight the urge to kiss her senseless. She shifted to get more comfortable against him and he groaned a little inside, arching his back so she didn’t feel his growing erection.

Clint made circles over her back and tried valiantly to control his rioting body, to tell his flesh to keep a lid on hit. She was afraid and vulnerable, she didn’t need to be mauled by a guy acting like a horny teenager. She needed strength, not childishness. She needed to know she could trust him. He had to be the guy she could trust. 

Natasha, for her part, was tracing nameless shapes along the planes of his chest through his shirt, intensely focused on her work. He reveled in her touch and cursed the thin cotton of his tshirt. 

“Clint?”

His voice croaked a little, much to his embarrassment. “Yeah?”

“There’s something I’ve been trying to tell you all day…” She sounded unsure, and Clint leaned back to look at her. She wouldn’t meet his gaze and he felt his pulse shoot up. _Oh God. What’s about to happen? What's she going to say?_

“After you left the other day - after breakfast and our talk - I got Tony to pull your records and send them to me. All of them since Loki, the ones at the Tower too. Your psych records.” She was stumbling, nervous, still refusing to look at him. He was too afraid to speak. 

“I went over everything really thoroughly and, well,” she took a deep breath, “I believe you. All of it. I mean, I trust you. I don’t think Hydra or Loki are up there anymore.”

Clint let out a huge breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. “I’m so gla-“

“There’s more,” she said. Natasha took another deep breath and wriggled closer into him. “I know you’ve seen my necklace. The arrow. I’ve seen you looking at it.”

She paused, seemed to be waiting for a response. He wasn’t exactly sure what to say, so he just acknowledged the truth. “I have.”

“You knew it was for you.”

He smiled and gave a short breath of laughter. “I didn’t know, but I hoped like hell it was.”

“It is,” she deadpanned. “I bought it after I left your cell, when Hydra had you.” She kept her hands on his chest, where her fingers continued to stroke him distractedly. He moved his hips away from her again, feeling himself grow a little more under her hands and the knowledge she was giving him. “I bought it because I wanted to feel connected to you. Even though you didn’t want me, I wanted you near me.” She drew a shuddering breath and focused on her fingers even more intently, “because I love you. I’ve loved you for a long, long time, and I’ve wanted to be connected to you even if I never saw you again. I never wanted to be without you.

“I love you, Clint.”

oOo

His hands stilled on her back and he stared down at her, not daring to breathe. Did she really just say that she’d bought the necklace because she’d loved him - for 'a long, long time'? He’d hoped, he’d thought maybe, but hearing her say it…it couldn’t be. His brow creased as he looked at her, her eyes still looking at the fingers that were touching his chest. Could he have heard her wrong? Could he have just wanted this so badly for so long that his brain manufactured what he wanted to hear? 

Natasha looked up to him finally and noted his troubled expression. “Clint…?"

“I’m sorry, Tasha. But…could you say that again?”

She smiled then, shifting a little to move her hands from his chest. She moved her body around, squirming against him, working her arms around his neck and her body closer to his on the bed without a word. Clint’s expression stayed bemused, watching her face, letting her position him where she wanted him. After a moment or two she had her arms around his neck, lying beside him, his arms around her loosely. 

Natasha looked up at him with soft, inviting eyes. His pulse raced, and her mouth reached for his. Her lips were soft, gentle as they pressed against his, moving gently and slowly before drawing back to look at him with flashing emerald eyes.

 _I’m lost,_ he thought. _If there was ever any hope for me, it’s gone now. I’m a goner, lost forever._

“I love you, Clint Barton,” Natasha said.

He groaned and pinned her mouth to his, rolling her partially beneath him as his mouth moved over hers possessively, claiming her lips as his before he broke away, trailing kisses along Natasha’s jaw towards her neck while he caught her hand and laced his fingers with hers, raising it above her head. 

“Tell me again, Tasha,” he murmured against the skin of her neck. “Please.”

She sighed as his warm breath and soft kisses heated her, causing her to roll her body beneath him involuntarily. “I love you,” she breathed. “I love you so much.”

Clint muttered against her neck and released her hand, reaching down to clutch at her hip and grind it against him, against where he wanted her. His mouth returned to hers, his tongue demanding entrance. She accepted him with a moan and an arch of her back, sighing as their tongues met each other and her center rolled against the hard length of him. She rolled her hips again, then again, building a friction and moaning into his mouth as he gripped her hip. 

Clint’s voice was ragged when he asked her, between kisses, “Tasha, I need to touch you. Please.”

Natasha said nothing in response, just slid her hands down his back to the bottom of his tshirt as she nibbled on his clavicle. She was artless and inelegant when she stripped him of his shirt, taking advantage of the moment he raised up to pull it off of his arms to tip him over onto his back, straddle his thighs and begin reacquainting herself with the expanse of his chest, letting her lips and tongue follow where her fingertips went. He reached up to her shirt, tugging it a few inches before she swatted his hands away. 

“No.” She spread her hands across his chest. He tried again, and her tongue circled one of his nipples as she caught his hands and pulled them away.

“No.” 

“But-“

“Wait.” She placed open mouthed kisses across his chest, grinding herself against his erection and he groaned when she started working her way up to his neck, stopping at his collarbone again to nip at his skin there the way she knew he liked it. Her hips never stopped undulating, and her hands slipped under his shoulders to grip him more firmly. She licked and nibbled the hollow of his throat, and he finally gave up obedience, grabbing her hips and puling her against him, groaning against the pressure and cursing the barriers between them. 

Natasha reached his earlobe and captured it between her teeth before sucking it into her mouth. “I want you to touch me, Clint.” He moaned as she licked the spot behind his ear. “Make love to me.”

Clint sat up like a rocket, jerking her shirt off, throwing it to the side. He took her face in both hands and kissed her hungrily, plundering her mouth, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs while she wrapped her arms and legs around him. “I love you, Natasha,” he sighed into the kiss. “God, I love you.”

She nodded, not able to speak, but he understood anyway. Clint reached behind her to snap her bra open and tugged it free from her arms before leaning back to take in the sight of her. She draped her arms loosely around his neck, carding her fingers through his blond hair. “Jesus, Tasha.”

“What?”

He brought one hand up to cup her breast as he kissed her softly, leaning her back, lying her down and bringing his body full-length beside her, covering his mouth with his and spreading his hand across her belly. He wanted to tell her she was beautiful she was, just how amazingly gorgeous she was, but she had heard that so much from so many people that it seemed trite. He kissed her deeply, his tongue dancing with hers as his fingers curled around the flesh of her breast, kneading worshipfully. He raised up to look at her again, letting his eyes roam her as he lay propped on one elbow. His other hand slipped lower, causing the muscles of her abdomen to jump everywhere his fingertips touched as they trailed a path lower. Her skin was hot and velvety under his hand and he made a small, involuntary sound at the thought of what she’d feel like when he reached the very center of her. 

“Clint? What is it?”

He looked up at her and she reached up to put a hand behind his neck just as his fingers reached the waistband of her yoga pants. “It’s just…I don’t know, Tasha.” He bent to suck her nipple into his mouth and slipped his hand farther into her pants. “I just…I had just dreamed of you and given up on you being real anymore.” His hand reached her and cupped her, she arched and he captured her other nipple, swirling his tongue around it. She brought both hands to his head and bowed her back, silently begging for his touch and more of his tongue - saying ‘yes’ to an unasked question. 

“But you’re here, corporeal. I just don’t even know what to say.” He laved her breast slowly before teasing the nipple to hardness with his teeth, rolling it with his tongue when he dipped his finger barely into her folds. Natasha grabbed him by the face and dragged him to her, kissing him demandingly, moaning into his mouth as  he slipped one finger into her, then another and his thumb onto her hard little nub, circling it slowly.

“Tell me I’m yours," she panted. "Say you’re mine. Tell me you love me.”

He acquiesced, telling her all of that and more: sweet nothings and precious everythings whispered in her ear as he rocked his fingers in and out of her, curling them upward, stroking her two most sensitive places rhythmically and kissing her, swallowing her moans while she twisted with mingled want and need beneath his hand. 

Her breath began to come in gasps and Clint intensified his assault, knowing the time was upon her and what she needed. He didn’t let up as she came for him, spreading her legs wider then slamming them shut, crying out his name and writhing in bliss. She ended on a sob and Clint made a sound almost like a growl as he pulled his fingers out, yanking off her pants and his boxers quickly then coming back to hover atop her between her legs. Natasha wound one leg around his waist, pressing him against where she ached for him, clinging to him. 

He positioned himself then looked at her hungrily, his eyes bleary with want. 

“Tasha?”

“Please, Clint.”

He entered her, thrusting hard enough to rock her back into the bed and she called out his name in a ragged plea. Clint retreated then plunged again, claiming her mouth in a kiss that was pure possession, heat and pressure fueled by a mutual desire to claim each other.

Natasha clenched on him and he groaned, “Sweeetheart, don’t. I won’t last if you do…” She respond by licking the spot behind his ear, locking her ankled around his waist and clenching again. He moaned and thrust faster, a dance of conquest and retreat, as he slipped a hand between them to the place they were joined. 

He looked into her heavy-lidded eyes as he rubbed messy circles and pushed into her at an ever-quickening, steady pace. “I love you. I’m yours, _zovetnaya_. All yours.”

She flew apart at the endearment, taking him by surprise as she locked herself around him. He removed his hand and braced himself, slamming himself into her as she swore and cried out to God in Russian, trying to desperately to think of anything but how her breasts felt bouncing against his chest and her nails were digging into his back and how she felt like a wet vise as he -

The pressure released, the dam broke, fireworks exploded behind his eyes and he fell over the ledge. Clint lost control of his voice and it creaked, moaned, yelled while he begged for something unknown as he lost himself in her, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps, his heart content and singing. 


End file.
